Is It Enough?
by KscoElak
Summary: An OC is having a tough time so she turns to her fandoms for solace. She then meets someone who will help her feel better about herself and life. Read to find out what happens!


**Hello everyone. You may not know who I am, as I know not who you are, but alas I am here today, and that is what matters. This is my first story in God knows how long, and I am now an (less) awkward 16 year old junior just trying to get through high school and to college.**

 **I was just lying down this evening, and I thought, "Well, since you are bored, and you can't seem to concentrate on anything, why don't you try and write a short little something on that fanfiction website?" So I did – or I am attempting to do so at least.**

 **This story will consist of an OC and there will be fictional characters in it, but the OC will not be interacting with them directly. You will see how in the first chapter. The OC is having a rough time right now, and she is going to turn to her fandoms for solace.**

 **Now I really suck at summaries, so bear with me. This first chapter is going to be short, sort of a trial run, if you will. I would appreciate your support, and please go R &R!**

 **Is It Enough?**

Today was just another one of those days, the kind where anything you just cannot seem to be enough for anyone. It was as if the weather was agreeing with unfortunate luck, as the once sunny sky suddenly became overcast and was filled with grey clouds, grey sky, and grey rain. The rain did not come pelting down, but as a steady pour, as if the eyes of a deity were crying for the world.

I had just turned in the second-to-last draft for my term paper for my AP English class at school. I had worked so hard on it, I had labored away at it like a sculptor at a slab of marble, carefully molding it into a masterpiece.

So why the gloomy attitude?

My teacher had read it over right there and then and simply said to me, "Not good enough." I managed to keep my temper and ask her politely as to why she thought that it was not "good enough."

She simply said, "I just don't like it. Your presentation of the significance of the novel's theme is absolutely crude, your analysis of the characters is like garbage, and do not even get me started on your paragraphs! This whole paper was a complete waste of your time, and I never should have asked you to write it for your final exam grade, rather than taking the test itself."

She proceeded to tell me that I would never be able to fix my "awful writing", and I would never find a job, due to my "lack in the presentation of written language." Once she was finished with her scornful remarks, I gathered up my bag and my black coat, and I walked out of the school, finally breaking into tears after walking at least a distance of two blocks away from the school's building.

I just could not believe that she said that to me. She did nothing but criticize my paper, and that was it. She did not even offer me any sort of advice towards raising the paper's quality to her standards.

Thus, we are at the beginning of the story, where I've been walking around in the grey, drizzling rain and constantly wondering, _"It was not enough. I don't know what else to do."_

I was finally realized that if I stayed out in the rain any longer, then I was possibly going to catch cold. _"Good,"_ I thought, _"Maybe if I get sick I can call in from work and wallow in my self-pity and slow, on setting depression."_

I worked at a small café not far from my apartment, where I served sandwiches, coffee, and other trivial lunch foods. I worked there to help pay for school, but luckily my mother was able to pay for most of it, as she absolutely refused for me to take out any loans at all. I am majoring in American Sign Language Interpretation and Translation, as I hope to help deaf children and adults speak again one day through what they can do, even if they cannot hear.

I finally reach my small, homely apartment building. It is not too shabby-looking if I may say so myself. Being on the top floor, my apartment is one the largest, complete with two bedrooms, and one and a half baths. I love to cook, so my kitchen is always slightly messy, with dirty dishes that need to be cleaned. The kitchen has a vintage appeal, as does the rest of my place, as I do not take fondly to modern things. However, it is also an eclectic mix of things, because I have many different fandoms and I love to incorporate them into the decorations of my home. Every lamp in every room is a teacup lamp, with a lampshade resembling a Mad Hatter's hat, each one matching the different rooms' color schemes of course. My living area consists of a dark, wine-colored, purplish couch, with two vintage parlor chairs that I found at an antique store when I first moved into the city.

My record player sits off in a corner, patiently waiting to play some music. But first, I walk to my bedroom, the walls a pale cream color, accented by the dark TARDIS-blue cover of my bedspread. I change into my comfy clothes, a baggy Millennium Falcon t-shirt, and some sleep shorts. After throwing my waist length, wavy, mahogany hair into a top knot upon my head, I floated back to my living room to put on some music. I searched through the many albums on the tall, oak shelf on the wall opposite from the couch. I owned so much music, it was so hard to choose what to play after having this kind of day. I eventually decided on _Parachutes_ by Coldplay, one of my favorites. The soft and simple strums of _Yellow_ soon filled my house, and I was already beginning to feel slightly better about the day's events.

Sauntering over to my fridge, I perused the shelves looking for some raw ingredients to where I could make myself some dinner. Alas, I must have forgotten to go grocery shopping, for I had only three eggs, a half-full carton of milk, and a few apples. I promptly decided that I would order some Chinese food, and I did so. Because the nearest Chinese restaurant was about 45 minutes away, I had some to kill. And so, I settled onto my couch, grabbed my laptop, pulled up Netflix, and sank into a galaxy far, far away…

 _*blaster fire is heard all around, stormtroopers are everywhere, and she cannot find him…*_

 _Leia ran down the hallways of the Death Star, tightly holding onto the Imperial blaster that she had stolen. This 'Luke Skywalker', as the young boy called himself, was supposedly here to rescue her, tagged along by a scruffy-looking scoundrel and a giant walking carpet who was actually a Wookie. All the while as she ran down the many never-ending hallways, Leia was thinking, "If this is what these MEN call a rescue, then they must be high on spice or something!"_

 _Suddenly, Luke and Leia reunite with the scruffy-looking duo, and Leia nearly crashes into the tall (if she dares to think so), handsome man who is looking down onto the what she hoped was ship. She looked over to the main hangar, was immediately puzzled, and said "You came in that thing? You're braver than I thought." The scruffy man turned to her and muttered a sarcastic thank you._

 _The group was now stealthily creeping into the hangar onto the ship, and they were almost all on board when Luke stopped and screamed "NO!"…_

And at that moment, my doorbell rang. I threw off my headphones and blanket, and practically ran to the door, because FOOD! I opened the door, and my jaw dropped. For standing in my doorway, with a carton of lo mein and sweet and sour chicken, was the cutest young man that I had ever seen.


End file.
